I'll Always Come For You
by Rainbow.Fright
Summary: Two related Steve/femaleReader oneshots. Reader gets kidnapped, and Steve comes to save her. (Mentioned torture, nothing graphic.)
1. Captured

_Written for avengersimagine .tumblr. com's prompt "you're in a relationship with Steve, and an old enemy kidnaps you to get to him. you nearly die. Steve is not happy." Enjoy~_

* * *

"Alright, who's not dead?" Tony's voice rang out from the air, the suit hovering in the air as he took a look around the battered landscape. Buildings were broken and on fire, the streets were covered in rubble, and there certainly wasn't a shortage of corpses. You shouldered a fraction of wood and drywall out of your way as you made it back into the open from where you'd ended up fighting a few of the villain of the week's henchmen, and coughed some of the dust out of your lungs.

"Marco!" You called out, waving a hand over your head to make sure you were seen.

From a couple blocks away, the answering call of "Polo!" caught your attention and you smiled in spite of the fact that every part of your body hurt like hell. You'd won your fights, but not without sustaining some injuries, a few of which were bleeding sluggishly and staining your clothes and skin. You knew it'd hurt even worse if you stopped to think about it, and turned immediately to find blue eyes searching for your [e/c] ones, Captain Steve Rogers approaching you. You were immensely glad to see him in one piece, and you could imagine he felt the same way about you. You two had gone from best friends to cuddle buddies to dating, and had been together for a couple months now. It had always been hard for you to maintain a relationship with your..."line of work", and having someone who shared it with you had been a godsend.

You heard answering shouts and grumbles from the other members of your group, and the distance between you and Steve was closing when a figure came bursting out the building immediately to your left. You had a split second to register what was happening, the loud sound of brick exploding outward had your ears ringing and pummeled you with rock shrapnel, delaying your reaction time and weakening the arms you threw up to fight off whatever threat was coming at you. The man in front of you threw a punch, which you were able to block, but he retaliated by grabbing your blocking arm and spinning you around, striking you hard between the shoulder blades and knocking you to the ground as you tried desperately to catch the breath that had been knocked out of you. You heard a shout nearby, made distant by the ringing in your ears, and you saw Steve reaching for the shield on his back just before everything went dark and you felt a whoosh of cold air blow past you and the man who was still holding tightly to your forearm.

Steve stopped short as the spot you had just occupied suddenly became empty. His shield was on his arm, but he cursed the fact that it was a few moments too late. Tony landed several feet away a moment later, trying to analyze what the hell had just happened, besides, of course, the fact that you had just been teleported away by one of the more dangerous people alive. 'How' didn't matter. What mattered was that they had to get you back. He glanced from Steve's expression of anger and frustration to where Natasha was trying to rouse an unconscious Clint, the archer having fallen from quite the height, while Bruce was tending to a gash on his own arm. The team wasn't in great shape just then. "We'll get her back." He said, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

Steve looked up then, making eye contact with Tony. He nodded once, anger replaced with something that only read as grim determination. They were going to get you back. He would make damn sure of that.

x...x...x

You woke up in a small, dirty, windowless room with sort of dizzy headache that came of a night of drinking with the guys, a growling stomach, and a mouth that tasted like mud. It only took you a moment to remember what had happened-you were in the hands of the enemy at an unknown location where an unknown amount of time had passed-and snarled at whoever was behind the door when it opened. The came toward you and you tried to fight back, but strong hands held your arms tight to your sides and in your dehydrated and injured state, there wasn't much you could do to fight back. You were brought to a dimly lit room that had so many tools and instruments that shouted possibilities, and unfortunately they weren't looking too good for you.

x...x...x

It had been days since they'd first chained you up, hands suspended over your head by a chain that was just long enough for your feet to touch the ground, but not long enough for you to sink to your knees. Your hands were numb, you could feel several broken bones, you were tired, you were starving, and you were starting to lose hope. For days, you'd been here. For days, you'd been tortured and told that your friends from SHIELD weren't coming to get you. For days you'd been hurt and alone, and you weren't going to lie, you were _scared_.

You came groggily back to the land of the living when the man who'd kidnapped you patted you roughly on the cheek to wake you up. "Up and at 'em, sweetheart." He said, the rumble in his voice making you want to rip him apart as much as the smell of his breath made you want to vomit. "Busy day ahead of you."

Despite how much abuse your body had taken from the instruments on the table and how much abuse your vocal chords had taken from your screaming, you still managed to spit out a venomous "Go to hell."

He backhanded you hard across the face at the same time that a man's shout echoed down the hall. The man in front of you had his fist pulled back for another blow, but stopped to listen, looking confused. That seemed to be all of the pause that was needed before the door exploded. The man stepped away from you, reaching for one of the weapons on the table, but he didn't get the chance to use it before he was knocked over by a flying human mass. The dust was settling and you managed to shift your head to look at the entrance into the room, and you were relieved by what you saw. Steve and Bruce were standing in the doorway, Natasha standing over the now unconscious and potentially dead man who has been about to start torturing you for what was sure to be another hellish day, ready to take out any henchmen that might appear. Steve and Bruce were at your side in another moment.

"Y...You guys came." You murmured, sounding as stunned as you could feel with the amount of exhaustion you were under.

Steve quickly found the shackle keys from the table and unlocked your hands, catching you and holding you gently to his chest before you could fall. "Of course we came for you, baby." He said earnestly, carefully tipping you toward Bruce so the doctor could examine you for any immediately life threatening injuries.

"She'll be fine until we can get back to the 'copter." Bruce said after he checked your pulse and ran his hands over you quickly to check your main vulnerable points, then turning his attention back to Steve. "We shouldn't stick around as long as we can avoid it."

Steve nodded curtly and felt you relax in his arms, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the front of his uniform as you registered was was happening. "Shh, shh," he soothed, standing carefully with you in his arms. "It's alright. You're safe now."

You broke down sobbing somewhere between there and the helicopter that was to take you home, and Steve thanked whatever God was listening that the four of you made it out without any further incident. He could tell you were trying to stay as quiet as possible, but the shield you'd been holding up for the past several days was crumbling down once it wasn't needed any more, and he tipped his forehead carefully against yours once it became clear that the four of you were home free. "It's okay, [y/n]. I'm here. I'll never let you go again."


	2. Late Nights

_Written for avengersimagine .tumblr. com's prompt that had to do with Steve finding you in the gym, crying and beating a punching bag with your bare fists. Saw the prompt and thought it would make a good sequel to the other one. Enjoy~_

* * *

Steve woke up in the middle of the night and blinked a few times before rolling over with a sleepy grumble, opening his eyes when his arms didn't fall over your warm, sleeping form. You weren't there. He was alone in the dark silence, something that he'd been waking up to more often since your kidnapping. He sat up with a big yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to guess where you would probably be this time. It wasn't unusual for him to find you tucked into random corners of Stark Tower, sometimes in places he couldn't even begin to guess how you'd gotten there, but he always came to get you. He wouldn't even dream of making you do this alone.

In the end, it was the noises coming from the training room that got his attention. He opened the door silently, and his eyes locked on where you were standing with your back to him. Your fists landed relentlessly on the punching bag, but the way you were slumped slightly to one side and the somewhat erratic pattern of the blows exposed how tired you really were. With every strike you let out a short, miserable noise punctuated by the sharp, ragged breaths that came of sobbing and working yourself to exhaustion for who knew how long. He let out a harsh breath, feeling his heart break watching you go through this kind of pain. He didn't know what he could possibly do to help you. It wasn't new to him by any means—he'd been to war, and he'd known enough prisoners of war and men who were so traumatized by the violence that they became completely different people—but that didn't make it any easier to watch you.

He padded barefoot across the floor and wrapped his arms around you, feeling you startle under him and cursing himself for accidentally sneaking up on you. You whirled around and threw the next punch that was meant for the punching bag directly into his torso, but you were so fatigued that it didn't hurt at all. The fact that you were so completely drained almost hurt him more than an actual punch would have. Your face was streaked with tears when you looked up at him, a flash of recognition crossing your features before your expression crumbled entirely. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You started quickly, your words and your breath coming in short bursts as you tried to control your sobbing. "I didn't know it was you. I didn't mean to—"

He pulled you in close to his chest and wrapped his arms around you, holding you just a bit tighter when he realized that he could feel you trembling. "Shh. Don't worry about it." He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You burst into full-on sobbing, crying into his chest. "I…I don't want to…I need to be stronger." Your words were barely coherent because of your crying, and he started softly rubbing your back, holding you close and letting you cry yourself out. "If I was just a little stronger, then that asshole wouldn't have gotten me and I would've been able to fight him off. I should've been able to—"

"Hey, hey, hey." He interrupted you again, pulling away just enough so he could look you in the eye. "You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, and what happened to you isn't your fault. You understand me?" He asked gently. You took a big shuddering breath and nodded almost reluctantly, laying your head against his chest again and taking comfort in his solid warmth. If Captain freaking America thought that you were strong enough, could you really argue with him? You were a little light headed from exhaustion and felt yourself leaning more on him to hold yourself up the longer you stood there, and he let you. After a few more moments, when you could feel yourself slowly being lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his heart, he moved to kiss you on the forehead. "Come back to bed with me, [y/n]." He said softly, his concern audible.

You nodded again. "Yeah. And…thanks, Steve."

He smiled. "Of course."

He guided you back to the bedroom you two shared and crawled into bed next to you, tucking you snugly against him and throwing an arm and a leg over you as if physically shielding you from the nightmares you'd been trying to keep at bay with his body. "I love you, [y/n]. I'm glad we got you home safe. We'll figure the rest out together, I promise."

You could only respond with a sleepy mumble, already drifting off, feeling safe in the arms of the man who you knew would do his best to protect you. Once your breathing had steadied, becoming deep and even, Steve allowed himself to fall back asleep. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
